


Seven

by aramanthe (lilyandjoey)



Series: Seven [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dancing, Healing, Kissing, Multi, Rain, Truth or Dare, breaking up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-22
Updated: 2005-11-03
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyandjoey/pseuds/aramanthe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven Weasley siblings. Hermione loves them all in different ways. A series of moments, non-chronological, in which she sees each of them in a different light. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Charlie

**Author's Note:**

> There is one chapter per Weasley sibling. Once this fic was complete I wrote an extended fic based on the most popular pairing as chosen by the reviewers at FictionAlley.

_Silently watching the rain clouds  
Move by far too fast  
You said it was a night where  
Anything could happen  
But nothing was gonna last_

Charlie got up from his rather comfortable position on the sofa with a sigh. He had been quite looking forward to having an evening in with the Wizard Wireless in the corner and a good book. Disgruntled, he crossed his living room to the front door.

He was more than a little surprised to find a dripping wet Hermione Granger in the hallway outside his flat. His annoyance at the interruption dissipated as he took in her sodden form. The woman was dressed entirely inappropriately for the weather. She had her arms folded across her chest as she shivered silently but visibly. Charlie looked her up and down, concern evident on his face.

"You're wet," he said softly.

Instantly he regretted it. He cringed inwardly, waiting for her to laugh at him for stating the blindingly obvious, or to express irritation at his stupidity. To his surprise and relief, she didn't.

"Yes," she replied softly, "It's raining."

Coming to his senses at last, Charlie stepped aside to let Hermione into his flat. He told her to wait in the living room while he fetched some dry clothes. Guessing that Hermione wouldn't want to wear dragon hide trousers, Charlie selected a slightly battered pair of Muggle jeans and an old Weird Sisters T-shirt. When he returned to the living room there was no sign of his unexpected guest.

"Hermione?" he called curiously.

"I'm in here."

He followed her voice into the kitchen.

"I didn't want to drip on your carpet," she said by way of explanation.

Charlie smiled at her and held out the pile of clothes for her. As she reached for them, he suddenly realised that her white shirt had gone entirely transparent in the rain. _Oh crap,_ _I can see Hermione Granger's bra,_ he thought, trying desperately not to look at her chest. He was also hoping that he hadn't gone red from embarrassment. Hermione took the clothes, seemingly unaware of Charlie's inner turmoil. He was highly relieved when she just thanked him and headed for the door.

"You know where the bathroom is," he said with a smile.

"Thanks," she said, turning to smile back at him as she left the room.

 _Hmmm,_ thought Charlie, _hope my bedroom's not too messy,_ as he realised she'd have to walk through it to get to the bathroom.

~~~~~~~

Hermione hummed to herself as she stood in Charlie's bathroom, rubbing her hair with a towel. She dressed herself in his jeans and T-shirt. The jeans were quite a good fit, surprisingly. She had thought they probably wouldn't fit her and had been speculating about shrinking or enlarging them, but thankfully it hadn't been necessary. It was quite funny looking at herself in Charlie's clothes. She would never normally wear a Weird Sisters T-shirt.

She combed her hair and pulled it back into a damp plait. There was no knowing what it would try to do if left to it's own devices after being rained on. Satisfied, she continued humming as she gathered up her wet clothes and the now wet towel. She unlocked the bathroom door, wondering what she should do with them. To her surprise, Hermione spotted a Muggle airer in the corner of Charlie's bedroom.

"Charlie? I'm hanging my things on the airer, ok?"

There was no response. She shrugged and began hanging her wet things on it anyway, before heading back to the living room.

~~~~~~~

While Hermione was in the bathroom, Charlie decided she could probably do with a cup of hot tea to warm her up. He wasn't sure if she'd want sugar or not, so he carried the sugar bowl and a teaspoon into the living room, floating the mugs in front of him and setting the lot down on the table. Thankfully he had finished doing this before his sister appeared near the door with a loud crack, scaring the living daylights out of her poor brother.

"Bloody hell! What have I told you about doing that, Gin? Can't you apparate into the hallway and knock like a normal person? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

She simply grinned and flopped down into the nearest armchair.

"Hey, big brother! What you up to?" she said cheekily.

"Well," Charlie sighed, "I was _trying_ to read a book, but apparently the universe has other plans for me this evening."

There came a noise from Charlie's bathroom. From the expression on Ginny's face it was clear that she had jumped to the logical, yet annoying, conclusion that it had come from the bedroom. She then noticed the two mugs of tea on the table and looked at her brother with wicked glee.

"Didn't realise you had _company_ , Charlie. I hope I'm not intruding."

Charlie did not like the evil look that had come across his little sister's face. _Oh crap_ , he thought.

"No, Gin. It's not what you think, she just ..."

At that moment a distinctly female voice cut him off.

"Charlie? I'm hanging my things on the airer, ok?"

"This just gets better and better. What things is she putting on the airer, Charlie?" Ginny asked in her most over-the-top innocent voice.

Hermione walked into the room before Charlie could answer. Ginny looked a little confused. It was Hermione. Her hair was wet. She was _definitely_ wearing Charlie's clothes. Hermione didn't seem to notice anything odd.

"Oh, hi Gin! How are you?"

Hermione finally noticed the oddness of Ginny when the younger girl squealed in response.

"You! And you! And ... I can't believe it! Eww, Hermione! He's my brother!"

"What?" Hermione asked, obviously lost.

"No, Ginny, I told you, it's not what you think. Hermione got caught in the rain and I lent her some dry clothes. That's it."

Hermione caught on and started laughing. Ginny remained unconvinced.

"What? It's not raining."

"How would you know?" Charlie exclaimed in frustration, "You apparated, remember."

"And why d'you think my hair's wet?" Hermione added. She had stopped laughing.

"Post-coital shower?"

"Ginny!" Hermione and Charlie yelled in unison.

"I don't believe you. Why didn't you just charm your clothes dry?"

Hermione was starting to feel like Ginny was auditioning for the Spanish Inquisition. She blushed.

"Idon'tknowhow," she mumbled.

"What?"

This time it was Charlie and Ginny's turn to speak in unison. Hermione started gabbling at high speed, still looking rather embarrassed.

"Well, I learnt at school, obviously, but I couldn't do it outside school, and with my parents I did laundry Muggle-style, and then after everything, and I like the smell of my clothes better when it's done without magic anyway, it reminds me of how mum did it and I guess I forgot how to do it after a while and I didn't bother re-learning it because I prefer it Muggle-style."

"Right," Ginny said, trying not to laugh, "but that doesn't explain why you didn't do it for her, Charlie."

"I, um, I ... Well, I shrink things when I try to charm them dry so I dry my laundry Muggle-style too. I can wash stuff with magic though."

Hermione and Ginny both laughed as he sounded so proud of his ability to wash his own clothes.

"So, you both do your laundry without magic. That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard. I think I'll leave you to do your _laundry_ in peace."

Ginny winked exaggeratedly before disappearing with a loud crack, leaving Charlie and Hermione wondering what had just happened and how Ginny could make laundry sound dirty. Charlie broke the awkward silence by offering Hermione her mug of tea. He also handed her a blanket which she put across her lap. They settled down on the sofa with the Wireless on.

"So, what are you reading," Hermione asked curiously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opening quotation (in italics) taken from Daybreaker by Beth Orton.


	2. Bill

_Homesick  
Because I no longer know  
Where home is._

"Egypt."

She replied without pausing for thought. When given the choice between Egypt and Norway, Egypt won hands down. Yes, Norway probably would be quite an interesting place to visit, but it didn't have the pyramids or the heat. Or Bill Weasley.

Hermione knew some people would think it was daft to choose her place of work for the next three months because of a man she barely knew, but Molly would appreciate it. And it would be nice to see a familiar face occasionally. While she loved the travelling that went with her job at the Ministry, she did feel lonely in the exotic (and not-so-exotic) locations she called home for a few months at a time. When in England, she lived at the Burrow. The room that had once been Percy's was now permanently hers. The place she had called home until she was seventeen no longer existed. Despite Molly's efforts, Hermione felt rootless.

When Hermione got in that night she sat down for dinner as usual, chatting happily with Fred and Ginny, having learnt years ago that the best way to 'help' Molly was to wash up rather than offer assistance with cooking and serving food. It pleased Mrs. Weasley greatly that she had at least one of her offspring round for dinner every night. She knew that not many mothers had that luxury once their children had left home. It saddened her to think that the war might be partially responsible for her good fortune, but she was thankful all the same.

After dinner, Hermione took Molly to one side and told her quietly that she had accepted a post in Egypt for three months and would be leaving in a week. A mixture of sadness and hope passed across the older woman's face as she took in the news.

"Could you give me Bill's address? It'll be nice to have someone I know around to show me the ropes."

"Of course, dear! It's just, well, it might be better if you turn up on his doorstep and surprise him. I don't know what to do with him lately. He hardly writes, and I haven't seen him since Christmas."

Hermione patted Molly on the arm reassuringly, knowing from the way her voice was cracking that she was close to tears.

"I know. I'll write to you every week, maybe more, so you won't have to worry about me. And I'll give you updates on how Bill's doing too. He'll be ok. He just needs time."

~~~~~~~

Hermione stood in the hot, dusty street, clutching a crumpled piece of paper. She re-read it for the fourth time, looked up at the door in front of her and stepped forward with a determined look on her face. She knocked on the door firmly and then stood back. She hoped desperately that he was home. People were starting to give her funny looks. She was fairly sure she was dressed appropriately. Having been told to keep her arms and hair covered as much as possible, she had gone shopping and bought herself several loose, light pairs of trousers and long-sleeved shirts. Today she was wearing brown linen trousers, charmed not to crease, and a white shirt. She had forced her hair into a neat bun which she had wrapped scarf round, partly to keep her hair under control, and partly so she could wear it as a more traditional headscarf when necessary.

"Damn it, Bill. Open the door."

 _Great,_ she thought, _now I'm talking to myself._ She knocked on the door again. It opened to reveal a rather angry man with long red hair ad silver scars crisscrossing his face.

"Hello, Bill. Long time, no see."

A look of surprise flickered across his face, and then his expression softened. He stepped aside to let her in. Hermione walked past him into his living room. Thankfully his flat was a lot nicer on the inside than on the outside. She assumed this was designed to deter burglars, which was preferable to being dragged before the courts to explain why you had jinxed intruders. The flat was spacious, well-lit and neat. And there was nothing to show that Fleur had ever lived there. Hermione decided that Bill must have a drawer full of her stuff in his bedroom.

"Why did you come?" he asked abruptly.

"I'm working here for three months. Your mother gave me your address. I thought it would be nice to have a local show me around."

"I see."

Hermione sighed. Apparently this was not going to be as easy as she'd hoped. Her plan had been to have fun sightseeing with Bill, before ordering him to write to his mother more often. It would seem that fun was out of the question.

"I take it you don't mind being stared at."

"What?"

She looked confused. She had been so sure her outfit was appropriate. She never wore anything that could be considered remotely indecent in England, and she had covered everything except her face and hands. Bill laughed sadly, and indicated his face. As he did so she noticed that he was no longer wearing his wedding ring.

"Oh, Bill."

"I don't need your pity, Hermione. And I certainly don't want it."

She sighed in exasperation.

"That's good, because I'm not offering it. You can cast a glamour over yourself so that the Muggles can't see the scars, or you can just stare right back at anyone daft enough to stare at you."

He looked at her in mild surprise. She suppressed a smile.

"And you can go see your mother more often as well. Or at least write to her. She's worried sick about you."

His shock turned to sadness once again. He looked down at his hands as he spoke, his voice catching in his throat.

"It's hard without her."

"I know," Hermione said softly, "but she wouldn't have wanted this."

Bill looked up at her, confused and curious.

"It's like she was never here. And you're so bitter. And we never see you. It's not good for you Bill. I'm sure you thought it would be easier to get rid of the things that remind you of her, but I bet there was some stuff you couldn't bear to part with stashed in a drawer somewhere. Stop hiding her things. Put a picture of her in here. Come home more. And be proud of your face."

Hermione sat back and waited for the tirade that had to follow her presumptuous outburst. She had meant to wait at least a few days before having this conversation. Maybe until the end of her visit. But somehow it had happened already. When she realised he wasn't going to say anything, she looked over to see Bill sat with his head in his hands.

She walked over and sat on the floor at his feet. She moved his hands and lifted his chin. Hermione slowly traced each of Bill's scars with her fingertips. At first he flinched under her touch. She persisted and he gradually relaxed. No one had touched him since his wife had died. He sighed softly as her small hands travelled the roadmap on his face and he closed his eyes. When he finally opened them, she smiled sadly, stood up and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opening quotation (in italics) taken from Homesick by Kings of Convenience.


	3. Fred

_Everybody's gotta learn sometime._

Forgetting herself completely, Hermione stood with her mouth open in shock. She was brought back to the present by the cries of pain coming from her neglected patient.

"Oh Merlin! Sorry Neville! I , um, hang on a sec!"

Hermione quickly cleaned his wounds and applied dressings. The hospital wing was full of people and Madam Pomfrey was rushed off her feet. As soon as she had proved that she was not mortally wounded, Hermione had grabbed some supplies and started treating those with minor injuries. Until she had been distracted and left a sterilising potion on Neville's arm for a little too long.

The cause of Hermione's odd behaviour was several beds over, busily treating a wide range of injuries calmly and with surprising speed. The reason this medical treatment was so shocking for Hermione was because it was a Weasley twin being so disciplined and thorough. As soon as she was finished with Neville, Hermione just had to go over and get a closer look.

Fred was busy treating some particularly nasty burns on a small Hufflepuff when Hermione reached him. He didn't look up once as he registered her presence and asked her for a variety of odd things. Too surprised to argue, Hermione obeyed and was astonished at the results. When he had finished treating the boy, Fred looked up to see who he had been ordering around.

"Hermione? You ok?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, I'm fine. You never cease to amaze me. First the Ministry are buying your tricks for defence and surveillance, and now you're a talented healer?"

Fred grinned at her bewildered expression.

"Hermione, who did George and I test our inventions on before we paid first years to do it? And don't frown at me like that. Of course I learnt to heal. You don't give yourself a huge nosebleed without knowing how to stop one. And do you know how many times I've burnt myself on various exploding things? I'm not stupid, you know."

"Fred! I never said I thought you were stupid. I just said you used your intelligence on things that were beneath you. I, look I'll talk to you later, ok? Too many people to treat."

"Ok."

~~~~~~~

At 4am, Hermione collapsed into an armchair in the Gryffindor common room. She leaned forward and began massaging her temples in a vain attempt to relieve the headache, brought on by fatigue. After a few minutes the portrait hole opened and Fred came through. Hermione looked up at him in vague confusion.

"I'm sleeping in Ron's bed tonight. He's still in the hospital wing."

He set down two steaming mugs on the small table in front of Hermione.

"I didn't know if you had milk and sugar, but I decided that it would be better sweet seeing as we're both tired."

Hermione looked at Fred blankly.

"It's tea," he added by way of explanation.

Hermione looked less confused. Fred motioned for her to sit on the floor, and too tired to argue, she obeyed. He sat in the chair she had just vacated, manhandled her into a more appropriate position and gently began to massage her temples. He then moved to the rest of her head, her neck and then her shoulders. Occasionally, Hermione let out a soft moan of pleasure. She gradually relaxed against the chair. When Fred had finished, they sat in silence and drank their tea. Hermione leaned against his leg and he absentmindedly stroked her hair as he drank.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

She leaned her head further back to look up at him. Fred smirked at her in a mildly irritating fashion.

"Wouldn't you like to know" he said suggestively.

Hermione laughed. At last, a bit of the Fred she was used to. He sighed and put his mug down on the table.

"Come on then, time for bed. We won't be much use in the morning otherwise. Said I'd take over from Tonks at ten."

They both stood.

"Thanks, Fred."

"You're welcome."

They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, then he hugged her, ruffled her hair and went up the stairs.

"Good night," she said softly as he walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opening quotation (in italics) taken from Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime by Beck.


	4. Percy

_Looking back through time, you know,  
It's clear that I've been blind, I've been a fool  
To open up my heart to all that jealousy,  
That bitterness, that ridicule._

She never thought she'd feel sorry for Percy Weasley, but time passed and things changed and somehow she found herself with this unexpected pity. He had never been particularly nice to her at school, despite the fact that she was clever, studious and thoroughly disapproved of rule-breaking (unless it was for the greater good, of course). In that way she was much more like him than his little brother. But Percy was sanctimonious, pompous and far too proud and Hermione hoped that she was none of those things.

Oh, Percy was definitely proud. That was a trait he shared with the rest of his siblings. They were a very proud family, sometimes Hermione thought they were worse than the Malfoys when it came to matters of pride. It was pride that had got Percy into this mess, and pride that kept him there. She knew that he thought it was far too late to turn back. Too late to apologise for his behaviour, for his disbelief, for his insistence on choosing work over his family. Ron and the twins certainly agreed with him. Molly still cried for him. She would have welcomed him home in an instant. All forgiven. All forgotten. If only he weren't so proud.

She knew he would never admit that he wanted to return. So, Hermione found her own ways of trying to ease his pain. She hoped Percy never guessed that she did these things for his benefit. If he had seen through the thin veils she pulled over her kind-hearted gestures he would have put a stop to them immediately. As it was, he didn't seem to guess.

Hermione and Percy worked in different departments at the Ministry. They didn't run into each other often, but when they did they greeted each other with curt nods

"Hermione."

"Percy."

No hello. No proper greeting, just a brusque exchange of names.

Percy did not know that Hermione knew exactly when she was likely to bump into him. She engineered these meetings. Whenever there was a new development in the Weasley family, she made sure to see Percy in the following few days. She would gossip loudly and brightly with colleagues.

"Did I tell you? Charlie's coming back from Romania! He says they're setting up a new colony in South America and he's been asked to go. He can't tell us where exactly yet. It's all top secret at the moment. Isn't that exciting? He's coming back to England for a few months rest before he goes."

She'd see Percy, nod to him, then continue on, pretending to wait until he was out of earshot. Of course, she knew he wasn't out of earshot. She made sure of that. Hermione hoped it would be easier on him if he knew how his family were. That he wouldn't have to wonder. She knew he would never deign to ask.

~~~~~~~

Percy could hear her coming down the corridor as he headed out for his lunch break. Unfortunately it was far too late for him to avoid her. He groaned inwardly and forced his face into what he hoped was a blank, indifferent expression. She came round the corner with a gaggle of women from her department. They were clearly off for a girly lunch together. He nodded at her as politely as he could manage and let out a sigh of relief when he was out of earshot once more.

It was infuriating! That Hermione Granger was always so loud and gossipy. Percy was sure she hadn't been like that at school. Wasn't she the quiet, studious type? She must have changed a lot since the war. Percy was glad that, although they worked in the same building, he didn't see the woman often. She was always rabbiting away with those awful friends of hers about who did what with whom and when. So irritating. Didn't they have anything better to talk about than his infernal family, for Merlin's sake?

Deep down, he was grateful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opening quotation (in italics) taken from Babylon by David Gray.


	5. Ginny

_we can touch  
touch our girl cheeks  
and we can hold hands  
like paper dolls  
we can try  
try each other on  
we can kiss  
kiss goodnight  
and we can go home wondering  
what would it be like  
if I did not have a boyfriend_

This was by far the strangest evening Hermione had spent at the Burrow so far. She was sitting on the floor in the attic with Harry, Ginny, Ron, Fred and George. The only light came from a candle in the centre of their little circle. Fred had said it would make things more 'atmospheric'. She wasn't entirely sure what he meant by that. He probably just thought it sounded cool.

It had been George's idea to go up into the attic. The teenagers were all bored, having to spend much of their time indoors due to the threat of Deatheaters. Someone, probably one of the twins, had suggested that they play 'Truth or Dare'. Hermione hadn't particularly wanted to play, but everyone else had and so she had sighed, put down her book and followed. George thought there was less risk of getting caught doing strange things if they were in the attic. Hermione was thinking about getting her book, which is perhaps why she found herself in a very awkward situation within the space of three minutes.

"Hermione. Truth or Dare?" Fred asked aggressively.

"Dare," Hermione said without thinking. It was unfortunate that she always picked whatever was said last when she hadn't been listening. A dare from Fred was not going to be something she would do willingly.

"I dare you ... to snog Ginny!"

"What?!" yelled Ron, Hermione and George at the same time.

Harry looked amused. Surprisingly, so did Ginny.

"Fred! Kissing dares aren't fair because they have to involve me or Harry!" Hermione protested.

"Unless you lot are feeling particularly incestuous this evening?" smirked Harry.

The Weasleys all blanched at this idea. Then Ron opened his mouth. He really shouldn't have.

"And there's no point suggesting dare's you _know_ the person won't do."

"Why do you think I won't do it, Ron?" Hermione said dangerously. Harry backed away a little. Ron didn't.

"Well, you just wouldn't. You're not the type. You'd have to be wasted first, and that's never gonna happen either."

"And what type am I?" she asked softly.

"Erm, well, I ... nevermind," he said backing away.

Hermione got up and crossed the circle to where Ginny was sitting. Ginny stood and smiled at her friend. Hermione touched her cheek and took a step closer. Ginny tucked Hermione's hair behind her ears then leaned in and kissed her. It started out slowly. There were a few inches between the girls' bodies as they kissed tentatively. Ginny relaxed first, moving one arm to Hermione's waist while the other toyed with her soft brown hair. Hermione softened and closed the gap between them, pulling Ginny close against her. Their kiss was more passionate now, and it was fairly obvious to the boys that tongues were involved. Hermione's fingers tangled in Ginny's long red hair while her other hand explored the skin just above the waistband of the younger girl's old jeans.

The boys sat on the floor in a row, mouths open in shock. Harry recovered first and grinned smugly as a thought occurred to him.

"I'm watching two hot girls kissing. You three are watching a hot girl kiss your baby sister."

Ron, Fred and George turned to stare at him. Harry had turned back to watch Hermione and Ginny with a filthy grin on his face. Ron had never seen Harry look so downright lecherous before. And what was with that incest comment earlier? It was almost more of a shock than the behaviour of his other best mate and his sister. This was getting too weird. Then it got worse. The door to the attic burst open.

"Hey guys! Oh ... crap."

Ginny and Hermione leapt apart, both as crimson as Ginny's hair. Tonks was standing in the doorway running her hand through her short blue hair in obvious discomfort.

"Um, Molly said you were up here, but I didn't realise it was just you two, and I didn't know you'd be ... and I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to."

As she was babbling, Tonks suddenly realised that Hermione and Ginny _hadn't_ been alone. They had an audience of teenage boys. She looked very confused. Hermione was wishing the floor would swallow her. Ginny wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to do, but she didn't want to be in the attic.

"Wait! What? I don't understand. Why were you kissing Hermione like that in front of your brothers? And Harry? Have I missed something here?"

By this point Harry was rolling around on the floor laughing hysterically. The expression on Tonks's face combined with the weirdness of the situation in the first place was just too much for him. Soon Fred and George had joined in, followed by Ron. Soon Ginny couldn't control herself either. Hermione wasn't sure what was so funny, but the laughter was contagious. Seeing Harry so incapacitated with laughter was funny by itself.

"You lot are so weird," said Tonks as she backed out of the attic and went back downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opening quotation (in italics) taken from The Whole Night by Ani DiFranco.


	6. George

_Let go of your heart, let go of your head,  
and feel it now._

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," she said to George.

He was wearing rather fetching blue dress robes with snakes slithering around the edges. They weren't real serpents, but they were making Hermione feel decidedly uncomfortable. As was the way in which George was holding her arm in a deceptively casual yet surprisingly vice-like grip. He was grinning. Hermione really wished she had said no.

"Come now. You don't mean that, muffin. You have the honour of accompanying the host. Just think how jealous all the other girls are."

Hermione snorted in disbelief. George pretended to be offended, then swiftly forgot about the slur on his attractiveness and steered his unwilling date across the room towards Fred and Angelina.

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had had to close during the war for many reasons, but after a brief period of recuperation followed by frenzied designing, inventing and experimenting, the Weasley twins were ready to re-open with a vengeance. They had decided to have a big launch. Hermione had reluctantly agreed that everyone could do with a party. It would help people release some of the tension of the past few years. She had also found that she no longer regarded Fred and George's business with the disdain she had shown previously. It was what they did best, and some of their ideas were ingenious. And after all that had happened people could do with a laugh.

George had come up to her one day last week and announced that he needed a date and he wanted to take her. When Hermione had looked at him in surprise he had informed her that as host he had to have a date. In one of his rare moments of absolute honesty, George had gone on to say that he didn't want to chat up some girl just to take her to his party and make small talk. He had looked her in the eye and told her that he just wanted to relax and have fun with his friends. She caught the unspoken message and had been touched by his sincerity. It had been impossible to say no.

So here she was, all dolled up in pale green dress robes with her hair done all nice, slightly embarrassed that she matched her date's moving snakes.

"You've met Fred and Angie haven't you, strudel?"

Hermione hit George for his faux politeness. Angie seemed to think that she was justified, as she raised one eyebrow in solidarity with the younger woman.

"I take it this idiot managed to convince you to be his date for the evening then," Angelina commented wryly.

"Against my better judgement, yes," Hermione replied with a grin.

"I resent that!" George exclaimed melodramatically.

"I'm sure you do," replied Hermione.

"Oh no! Percy, three o'clock," Fred warned in a stage whisper.

George promptly grabbed his date and dragged her off in the opposite direction to meet a surprisingly large amount of people she didn't know. After many tedious little chit-chats and false smiles, music started playing. To Hermione's great relief George announced that they could stop networking and have fun.

Her relief was short-lived. 'Fun' meant starting the dancing with Fred and Angelina.

"But ... But, why?"

George laughed at Hermione's expression.

"Come on, cinnamon bun. It'll be fun. Promise."

"Fine," she sighed, "And stop calling me pastries. It's weird."

George laughed again. He also insisted on slow dancing with her, despite the fact that the music was pretty lively. They made an odd sight: George and Hermione embracing and swaying slowly to the fast beat; Fred and Angelina twirling about all over the place. Hermione was surprised that Angie didn't get dizzy with her husband swinging her about like that. It reminded her of the way they were at the Hogwarts Yule Ball so many years ago. It was nice to see that some things never changed.

"Now you know why we're slow dancing. No one will look at us while those two put on a display," George murmured in Hermione's ear. He had a point.

When the song ended more people started dancing. George and Hermione put a little more space between them and started to enjoy themselves a bit more. He turned out to dance a little like his brother, only not quite so outrageous or dangerous. Hermione was starting to feel a little light-headed. Her hair was slipping from the pins she had tortured it into earlier, so she removed them all and let it cascade over her shoulders.

"Ooh, I love this song! I didn't know they'd play Muggle music!"

"I may have raided your CD collection after I guilt-tripped you into coming," George grinned.

Hermione smiled and twirled him around. Then it was her turn to spin. George thought she looked like a different person with her hair flaring out as she turned and her robes shimmying as she moved. Hermione started singing along.

 _"The music's too loud and the noise from the crowd increases the chance of misinterpretation, so let your hips do the talking ..."_

She laughed as George wiggled his hips in a rather disturbing manner. When the song finished he took her hand and led her off to get a drink. Several drinks and dances later Hermione proclaimed that George had got her 'giddy as a fish' and he'd better not spin her any more. Ever the gentleman, he obliged. The next song was a slow one so he pulled her close. Hermione leaned against her date for support as they swayed in time with the music. When the music stopped George tactfully kept one arm around his tired and slightly inebriated companion to steady her.

"Come on then, cupcake. I'd better get you home."

"I told you not to call me pastries."

"A cupcake isn't a pastry," George informed her knowledgeably. "It's a cake."

"Hmm," said Hermione doubtfully, as he steered her to get her cloak and apparated her back to the Burrow. He walked her to her room, kissed her hand and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Good night, angelcake."

George apparated back to the shop to get a head start on the cleaning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opening quotation (in italics) taken from Babylon by David Gray. Hermione sings (in italics) I'd Rather Dance by Kings of Convenience.


	7. Ron

_Always trying  
To have one and one make two,  
And even though it never worked  
I still feel love for you._

Hermione stood at the kitchen sink, looking out of the window at the street below. She liked these lazy Sundays. Ron sat at the kitchen table reading the _Daily Prophet_. Occasionally he would snort and read out something funny or irritating. Hermione would comment appropriately, and then go back to her thoughts. When Ron did the washing up he used magic. Hermione did too when she was in a rush, but she always did it the old-fashioned way when she had time. Ron always let her wash up on Sundays. He knew she liked it. He had thought it weird at first but he was very used to it by now. Hermione liked the feel of the hot water and suds on her hands and the slow, methodical task of washing each item.

They had been 'living in sin', as her mother called it, since they left Hogwarts four years ago. Thankfully, Hermione knew that her mother didn't object to the arrangement. It was just one of her funny little phrases. She said it with a smile. She understood that they would not be separated after all they had been through and quite liked their little flat on Diagon Alley. Molly didn't understand why they refused to 'make it official', but she had stopped pestering them about it after the first two years. She had accepted it with an air of resignation and not a little confusion. The poor woman just could not get her head around the fact that a couple who had been in love for so long and wanted to live together did not want to marry. To her it was the logical thing to do, but to Hermione and Ron it was not. It was Ron who had tentatively broached the subject after several months of harassment from his mother. Hermione smiled as she remembered the way he had nervously asked her:

"You don't _want_ to get married, do you?"

He had looked so relieved when she had said no. They had talked more easily then and discovered that while they wanted to live together, neither of them had any desire for fancy ceremonies and declarations of love. It was all so much hassle and paperwork. It didn't seem to fit with their relationship, with their kind of love.

They had fought together in a war and won. Well, in theory they had won. They had also lost a great deal. They had spent their school years fighting dark wizards. They had also spent their school years fighting each other. They fought differently now than they had then. Much of their anger had been fuelled by the general imbalance of teenagers with raging hormones and teenage angst. And their pent up attraction of course. Now they fought with the practiced ease of old friends and lovers. Much of the vitriol was gone and the fights weren't so frequent.

Ron and Hermione were also a rather practical couple. They didn't do grand romantic gestures. Ron never bought Hermione flowers. He bought her chocolate sometimes, but not expensive fancy chocolates in nice boxes. He bought her big bars of the Muggle chocolate that she liked or chocolate frogs. They didn't have pet names for each other or a song that was somehow 'theirs'. They didn't really want any of those things. It seemed far too slushy. They curled up on the sofa together to watch TV. Sometimes they held hands in public or kissed one another on the cheek, but anything more physical than that was saved for the bedroom.

Hermione placed a dish on the rack next to the sink as she watched people milling about lazily in Diagon Alley. She liked living above a shop. She liked being surrounded by what her dad referred to as 'magical folk'. She thought it made her sound like a fey little pixie or something equally twee. She smiled, remembering her father's attempts to understand the world his daughter now lived in. Her parents tried hard to understand and accept a world that they could only glimpse occasionally but never really be part of. It had hurt to tell them that there were people in her world who hated non-magical people, and hated her for being of non-magical descent. It saddened her to know that she was no longer part of the world she had been born into, and it was easier for her to embrace her new world if she was right in the heart of it.

Hermione was gazing out of the window, lost in thought and absentmindedly cleaning a spoon when it hit her. It seemed strange that something so important could strike at such a trivial moment. But really that was how it had always been with them. Everything happened when she least expected it. She had made the discovery that she loved Ron one day during a particularly dull History of Magic lesson. He had told her he loved her for the first time when they were hiding from Filch and Mrs Norris one night when they should have been in bed. Separately.

She turned away from the washing up, her hands still covered in bubbles and looked at Ron as he sat reading the Sports section of the newspaper.

"We're not in love anymore, are we?"

Ron looked up from his newspaper.

"No. No, we're not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opening quotation (in italics) taken from Sunrays and Saturdays by Vertical Horizon.


End file.
